Chapter Text
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Generations
Part Five
The clan gathering was far more difficult than Stiles had anticipated. No one offered any type of protest to his ascension, nearly everyone celebrated it, but it turned out that Joachinek wasn’t the only one Konstany had used his power and magic to hurt and control. Stiles unwove those spells that hadn’t faded with his grandfather’s removal as head of the family. His first official act was to break an engagement between his younger cousin, Julie, and a foreign wizard nearly twice her age. The reaction from the other clan was fierce, but Stiles wasn’t swayed by their threats and eventually they were forced to accept a monetary restitution. He freed up the clan resources and made books, heirlooms and magical knickknacks that Konstany had kept for himself freely available to anyone who wished to make use of them. He lifted the travel ban, marital permission, reproduction approval and every other disgusting magically enforced command Konstany had laid on the clan and rewrote the clan Laws to ensure that no head of the family could ever use his or her power against the family ever again.
By the time everyone left, Stiles was exhausted but the magical boost from their unconditional support had eased much of the ache he still felt from the loss of his talisman. He felt far more comfortable than he had in weeks after the clan gathering and was surprised to find that his father actually seemed even more uneasy than before.
“What’s bothering you?”
Joe sighed, “I was hoping he might have mentioned to one of them what his plans were for you. I don’t like not knowing”
“He doesn’t have any power over us.”
“I know,” Joe agreed. “But still. I wish we knew.”
Stiles spent most of his free time with his father, starting and abandoning a series of replacement talismans. At first he thought he was simply being too finicky, but none of them spoke to him they way his first one had and he was unable to actually finish any of them. He spent the rest of his free time trying to orchestrate situations where he might bump into Derek Hale, but nearly a month had passed since judgment and he hadn’t once seen the other man. He’d seen other members of the pack around, and with the exception of Scott and the ones he worked with, they’d all respected his need to for time and offered him only polite, but fleeting greetings whenever they met him. Adam had paused longer than any of the others, repeating his previous offer of conversation that made much more sense than it had previously, and Stiles thanked him and promised to take him up on it sometime in the future.
When he finally could take it no more, when the position of head of the family had settled and the hurt from the loss of his talisman had eased into something that no longer kept him up at night, Stiles steeled his resolve and set about trying to meet Derek. Yet even when he was intentionally looking for him instead of just hoping to bump into him, Stiles still could not find him.
When he received a request from Talia via Scott to come lay the magical protections he had promised into the foundation of the new house, Stiles arranged to do so immediately. He brought his father with him because such castings were always done in pairs, but spent most of the time trying to catch a glimpse of Derek among the members of the pack working on the construction.
Joe smacked the back of his head in a gentle rebuke, “Pay attention, kid. If you drop your end of the spell, we’ll have to start over.”
Stiles huffed, but refocused his attention. They laid spells to protect against malice, but added further protections that the clan did not generally make use of outside of their own members. Stiles smeared a drop of his blood along the foundation and smiled briefly when the shell of the building glowed briefly. Surprise flashed across Joe’s face briefly.
“You don’t do things by half.”
“What did you do?”
Stiles turned, stiffening a little when he caught sight of Laura, but he answered her easily. “If anyone who bears you ill will comes onto your property, you’ll know.”
Laura’s eyes rested on Joe, “It takes two of you to do this?”
“Such magic is traditionally cast in pairs,” Joe said, “To strengthen it.”
“I thought you weren’t much of a witch.”
Stiles gaped at her, but his biting response was cut off by Joe’s far calmer one. “I’m not.” He rolled his eyes when Stiles continued to look affronted, “I’m aware of how powerful I am, Stiles. This isn’t news to me.” He looked back to Laura, “Stiles did the majority of the casting. He’s probably powerful enough that he could have done it alone.”
“Then why did you come with him?”
At first the question further upset Stiles, but the tone of her voice was more honest curiosity then accusation and so he did not interrupt.
“Like I said, its traditionally done in pairs.”
“And I’ve never actually done something like this before,” Stiles added. “He might not be much of a witch,” Stiles couldn’t help the tone he took as he repeated the phrase she’d used, “But he knows a lot about this kind of thing and I wanted him here to make sure I did everything correctly.”
“And?” Laura asked, because it seemed like that was still something they weren’t sharing.
Joe shrugged, “I thought this might help show you that I bear your family no ill will. That I regret what happened and I hope I can help prevent anything like that from happening again.”
Laura’s mouth opened in surprise, “I- I owe you an apology.”
There was a moment when Stiles wanted to interrupt. How could it be so easy for his father to forgive her after everything she’d said and done? It would be so easy to let the words slip out of his mouth, but Stiles remained quiet because she wasn’t he one he was apologizing too. His father had enough of his free choice hampered by Konstany, and Stiles never wanted to follow in his footsteps. It wasn’t his decision if his father chose to forgive Laura.
“I accept. Thank you,” Joe replied after a moment.
Laura turned her gaze towards Stiles, “You as well. I spoke hastily because I was angry, but also because I was scared. I’d never even really seen much magic until he-” She shook her head. “And I’m sorry about your talisman. We thought our demands were reasonable, things we would have asked for anyway, and it would easily settle everything between us. Can you forgive me?”
“Did you destroy it?”
Laura tilted her head a little, “What?”
“I assumed that it would go to Talia, or maybe even Cecilia. But I haven’t seen anyone wearing it. Did you destroy it?”
“No,” She said quietly. “Of course not.”
“Then where is it?”
The reply came from Talia as she stepped up to stand behind Laura. “Derek has it. He was upset after what happened and he refused to let anyone take it from him.” She studied the Stilinski men for a moment, “I too owe both of you an apology.”
Stiles was quiet for a moment. His father touched his elbow and nodded, leaving Stiles to speak for both of them. “There is peace between us.”
“Is that all?” Talia asked. “We would call you an ally, Stiles. We would call your family friends. Have we lost that right?”
Stiles shook his head, “No.” Because despite his hurt, he didn’t truly hate either one of them. Most of his anger had faded with his hurt and he preferred to move forward to something better between their families than continue to suffer the consequences of his grandfather’s misdeeds. And the thought of how much friendship between the pack and the clan would angry the old man might also have helped Stiles make a decision.
“No,” he said after a moment. “So much of what he did was to keep us apart and I’m not going to give that asshole that satisfaction of knowing that he succeeded. And I understand that magic can be frightening. I don’t want you or anyone in your pack to be afraid of me or my clan.”
“We aren’t,” Talia assured him.
“If anything like this ever happens again, will you please just talk to me?” Stiles asked, his gaze mostly pinned on Laura.
“I promise.”
Stiles took a deep breath, “Then I forgive you.” And as he said the words, he found that they were truer than he had intended them.
Laura’s shoulders dropped and she nodded, “Thank you.” She took a step closer and held up two water bottles that neither of the Stilinski’s had noticed she was holding. “Thirsty?”
“Thank you,” Joe took both of the water bottles and tossed one to Stiles.
By the end of the day, they had managed to finish all the protections Stiles planned to lay on the foundation, but there had still been no sign of Derek. He was quiet as they left, deep in thought, and didn’t speak on the drive home until the jeep pulled into his father’s driveway.
“Do you think he’s mad at me?”
“I was surprised that we didn’t see him,” Joe admitted. “But I can’t imagine why he would be mad at you.”
“He asked if he could talk to me after judgment and I said yes… I mean I didn’t think he’d come straight away, but…”
“So don’t wait for him to come to you. Go to him.”
The next day Stiles found himself going through the schools on his annual round of safety talks and during one of his speeches he found himself staring at a pair of familiar dark eyes. When their gazes met, Cecilia waved at him with such enthusiasm that she nearly smacked the child sitting next to her. The moment the lecture was over, she ignored her teacher and weaved through all of the other children to give Stiles a hug.
“Hi, Sheriff.”
Stiles returned the hug, lifting her briefly, “Hey, Cece. How are you?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “How are you?”
“Good, thank you.”
Yet she remained close to him, her hands clenched from the effort of not grabbing onto him, and her eyes were wide. She again ignored her teacher’s call for her to return to the group and Stiles waved at the woman to give them a moment. He dropped to his knees to meet her gaze and caught her hands from where she had begun to anxiously twist the edge of her t-shirt.
“Cece?”
“Scott said you got my note and that we were still friends, but Mama said everyone needed time. She told everyone to leave you alone until you were ready to talk to us and didn’t feel so sad anymore.” She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t hear like a wolf, but sometimes I think Mama doesn’t realize that I can still hear things. I heard her talking.”
“Cece-”
“She thought she what she was asking for was easy. She thought you’d say yes and it wouldn’t be a problem for anyone and everything would be ok. Mama didn’t understand about magic and oaths and vows and stuff. Neither did Laura. But afterwards Uncle Peter told her about magic and stuff, cause he has a friend who’s a witch-wolf…” A look of horror spread across her features.
Stiles felt his expression change to mirror hers, “Cece…”
“I shouldn’t have said that!”
Stiles had, of course, heard of witch-wolves before but he’d never before heard anyone admit to knowing one. They were, perhaps unfairly, rather universally regarded as something similar to the bogeyman. They were rare for several reasons, mostly prominently because biting a witch likely meant death both for the witch but also for the biting Alpha. Those who survived tended to be irrevocably altered, not entirely right, and unable to control either the wolf or the magic. Even those who didn’t lose their minds during the process tended to be extremely dangerous and were often highly sought after by less reputable packs.
Cece wrapped her hands around his wrist, “Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not even supposed to know about him, but Isaac needed a place to stay when he was hiding and I saw him with Uncle Peter. He’s not bad! I promise.”
Stiles held up this hand, “It’s okay, Cece, but its probably better if I don’t know anymore. I can’t tell anyone anything I don’t know, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied meekly.
He sighed, “Look, Cece, I did talk to your mom and sister. Your mom was right about everyone needing time, but things are getting better. Derek and I will talk, I promise, but not until he’s ready.”
“No one has seen Derek since the day you lost your necklace.”
Stiles gaped at her, “But…but that was weeks ago!”
“Except I saw him once. He came to see me at recess and brought me a cupcake and told me he was sorry that he couldn’t pick me up from school anymore. He said he needed to be alone for a while. But it’s been a really long time and Mama won’t let me go into the woods to try to find him. I’m not a wolf, but I know all of Derek’s favorite places because he showed me!”
“Cece, your mom is right. You shouldn’t go wandering around the woods by yourself.”
She looked at him hopefully, “Will you take me?”
He hesitated, “If your brother wants to be alone-”
“Laura says he just wants to be alone with his broody manpain, but I know he’s just sad because he thinks you don’t like him. But I know that you do, so I want to help you find him so you can tell him. I don’t want him to live in the woods anymore because I miss him and Laura doesn’t do all the voices right when she reads me stories. She’s makes Hermione sound snotty.”
Stiles resisted the urge to smile at Cece’s affronted expression at Laura’s failure to read her the story correctly. He tugged on her braid, “Tell you what, why don’t I go look for Derek and if I can’t find him…I’ll come talk to you and if your mom says its okay then we can go look for him together.”
Cece nodded, “Okay.”
That Derek had been in the woods this entire time was a possibility Stiles felt stupid that he had never even considered. And it bothered him. He couldn’t understand why Derek was hiding in the preserve, but that thought of him alone and away from his family left Stiles uneasy. Derek was perhaps the least guilty person in everything that had happened and he didn’t deserve to be unhappy. Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure that he knew how to make him happy, but he wanted to try. His desire to see how things might develop between them surged, his magic reacted, and Stiles knew he had to find the other man immediately.
Stiles called in one of his deputies to do the rest of the speeches and armed with only a bottle of water, he entered the preserve and walked down one of the less used paths until he was miles away from the town. His link with his talisman was broken, but as he got deeper into the woods he felt a sort of awareness of where it was. It ended up being far easier to find Derek than he had imagined, though he was almost unrecognizable.
He wore something that had probably once been jeans, though they were ripped and stained beyond recognition. His face and hands were caked his dirt, his beard longer than Stiles had ever seen it and his hair absolutely wild. He said something when Stiles approached, but did nothing but blink as Stiles gently cajoled him out of the woods. He brought the silent man to his apartment, sneaking him through the back entrance, and gently maneuvered him in the direction of the bathroom.
Stiles pressed a towel into his hand and turned on the shower, adjusting the water until he was comfortably warm.
“Go on.”
But Derek only blinked at him in reply.
Stiles exhaled slowly, unable to look away from his gaze, “Derek? Should I have brought you to the hospital? Or to the Alpha?”
“No.”
The reply startled Stiles even though he’d been hoping for a response, because the sound of his voice was rough from disuse, but his tone was empty. Coupled with the lack of his expression on his face, worry spread through Stiles and that seemed to catch Derek’s attention at least because he inhaled deeply and frowned.
“How about a shower?” Stiles finally managed.
Derek stepped closer to the shower, pausing only to unwind the talisman from around his wrist. Despite how filthy he was, the talisman was pristine, and Derek set it at the edge of the sink before stepping into the shower without bothering to take off what remained of his pants. Stiles stared at the talisman, startled into leaving the bathroom by the sound of Derek opening the bottle of body wash.
He sat on his couch with his phone in his hand for a while before stepping out onto his small balcony to call Scott, half hoping Derek wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation while he was in the shower.
“Sup?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Derek hadn’t come home yet?”
“Ah.” Scott was quiet for a minute. “Who broke down and told you?”
“Cece.”
“Hm. The Alpha told everyone not to tell you.”
“But why?” Stiles demanded.
“Because he isn’t in any danger, Stiles. He’s a werewolf. He can handle himself.”
“He shouldn’t be living in the woods by himself,” Stiles argued.
“People process grief in different ways.”
“Grief?” Stiles demanded.
“Derek held on for fifteen years. Obviously I didn’t know the whole story until after Arbitration, but he had hope for fifteen years that things would change between the two of you somehow. After judgment he…”
“He what?”
“He lost hope.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Stiles,” Scott said gently. “He gave up. Shit. I’m not explaining this well. When one of my kind gives up hope of ever having their mate…it isn’t good. It was better for him to try and deal with this on his own.”
“So you all just let him go off into the woods to do what? To die?”
“Not to die,” Scott objected. “But to come to terms with it. It was better for him to get a handle on his emotions. Wolves in his situation can be…volatile.”
"And you didn’t think I’d want to know this? You didn’t think I’d want to help him.”
“Stiles,” Scott spoke slowly, his tone thoughtful, “None of this is your fault. You aren’t responsible for his well-being. He isn’t your obligation and you don’t owe him anything. He’ll be okay, he just needs time. That’s why no one said anything to you, they didn’t want you to feel pressured you to accept against your will. You aren’t mated to him and you don’t ever have to be.”
“We aren’t mated yet,” Stiles snapped.
“Whoa, what?” Scott demanded. “I thought you didn’t want him?”
“Why does everyone think that? I never said anything like that.”
“So you do love him?” Scott asked eagerly.
“No,” Stiles said. “I mean, not yet. But…my magic likes him and that means something. I’m going to fix this,” Stiles said. “Maybe I would have taken it a little slower, gotten to know him better, but I’d being lying if I said I ever saw this ending any other way. Come on, dude. Remember how I used to follow him around the library in high school? This has always been what I wanted, everything was just got fucking complicated I didn’t know how to get us here.”
“He’ll come out of the woods when he’s ready, Stiles. Short of tracking him down yourself- Oh. You already found him, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“How is he?”
“He doesn’t seem hurt, he just seems….sort of robotic. He’ll be okay, right?”
“He’ll snap out of it,” Scott said.
“Will you tell the Alpha he’s here? I don’t want them to be worried about him.”
“Sure,” Scott agreed. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks, buddy.”
Stiles went back into his apartment. He grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from his bedroom and left them in the bathroom for Derek. He was contemplating the contents of his fridge and what Derek might like to eat when the other man stepped out of the bathroom and cleared his throat quietly.
He looked better clean and dressed, but his beard still looked like that of a man who lived deep in the mountains. Derek took a few steps closer when Stiles met his gaze, but his expression remained blank. Stiles remember the smile he had worn when he’d given him flowers and hated that his face was so divorced that.
“Feel better?”
“I suppose.” Derek frowned a little and rubbed his beard, “But this is probably a bit much.”
“So shave it,” Stiles suggested. “There is stuff behind the mirror in the bathroom.”
Derek disappeared back into the bathroom after a curt nod and Stiles decided on pancakes. He’d finished a heaping stack for both of them by the time Derek returned, his face smooth but still foreign in how non-expressive it was. Derek took a seat when Stiles gestured for him to. His expression when Stiles placed the pancakes in front of him was slightly puzzled, but after a moment he lifted his fork and knife and dug into the food with relish. He was about halfway finished his pancakes when he looked up, cleared his throat, and spoke in a slightly less raspy voice.
“You smell guilty and worried.”
“I feel guilty because I just assumed you were avoiding me, not avoiding everyone, and I should have taken a more proactive approach into making sure you were okay. I hate that it took Cece to get me to go find you. I should have tracked you down when you didn’t come see me after judgment. And I’m worried because you don’t seem okay and I- I want you to be okay.”
Derek tilted his head a little, “You spoke to Cece?”
“She misses you.”
“She has Laura and Cora. It’s better that I’m not around her like this.”
“You’re her favorite.”
Derek lifted an eyebrow at the statement, “Sure.”
Stiles shook his head at Derek before disappearing into his bedroom briefly, returning with the first note Cecilia had ever written him. Derek’s eyes widened as he read the note and before he finished, his cheeks were red with embarrassment. “I can’t believe she gave this to you.”
“Can’t you? She’s the most precocious kid I’ve ever met.”
Derek smiled fondly at the words, “I suppose she is. You saw her?”
“Earlier today.”
“And she’s okay?”
“Aside from suffering Laura’s inadequate attempt to do Hermione’s voice while reading Harry Potter, she seems fine,” Stiles assured him.
Derek nodded.
“Derek.”
The other man met his gaze evenly, “Yes?”
“Please go home. Don’t hide out in the woods any longer.”
He nodded after a moment, “I will.” He lowered his fork and knife.
Stiles jumped to his feet when Derek rose from his chair, “I didn’t mean this instant.”
“I should get out of your space.”
Derek ran his hands through his hair and Stiles’ gaze was drawn to the talisman he had rewrapped around his wrist after his shower. The hurt was more emotional than physical, but if he couldn’t have it then at least Derek had it.
“You should wear that around your neck.”
“No.”
“It’s more powerful the closer it is your heart.”
“I haven’t the right. This should never have been taken from you.”
“No one took it. I gave it freely,” Stiles objected.
“Because we backed you into a corner, but I saw your face when you gave it up and it was awful. I hate that I have it, but I couldn’t bear to let anyone else keep it either.”
Stiles moved around the table, closing the distance between them, and unwound the talisman from Derek’s wrist. Ignoring his sound of surprise, Stiles easily looped the necklace around Derek’s neck. The moment his fingers touched the amulet, the magic from it sunk into Stiles like dozens of little tethers. Stiles unhooked all over them, redirecting the magic to Derek. He pressed the amulet to Derek’s chest, directly over his heart.
“Protect him.”
The amulet heated briefly, nearly burning his hand, before abruptly cooling. Stiles released the amulet, letting the talisman settle against the center of Derek’s chest, and avoided his gaze as he took a small step back. “I grant you the protection of my clan.”
Derek exhaled sharply.
“You have to wear it like this. If you don’t, you’ll be spitting in the face of-”
Derek stepped forward and caught Stiles in his arms in a single, fluid move, kissing him deeply. Stiles completely forgot whatever he had been about to say as he buried his hands in Derek’s hair to return the kiss.
“I wanted it so bad,” Derek admitted between hurried kisses. “I used to fantasize about this, only when I had it I felt awful because you hadn’t actually given it to me. I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t let anyone else have it and I couldn’t get rid of it.”
“Promise me you won’t take it off.”
“I promise,” Derek agreed.
They crashed into nearly every object in their path to Stiles bedroom. Stiles struggled with the buttons on his uniform as Derek continued to kiss him.
“You know what it means when a Witch gives you as talisman, right?”
“I can feel your magic hovering over my skin and it feels like sunlight. It’s to protect me.”
“No, wait,” Stiles turned his face to avoid another kiss.
“It isn’t to protect me?”
“It’s more than that. I mean, do you know what it means an a Witch gives you their own talisman?” Stiles amended. “It’s different than if I just gave you one I happened to make.”
“I heard its something of a courting gesture,” Derek admitted. “Which is why I used to dream about you giving this to me when I-”
“When you what?”
Derek exhaled slowly, “When I marked you.”
“You mark your mates with your teeth?”
Derek nodded, “But you know I can’t turn you, right? It won’t do that. And neither will my mother. Not ever. And it won’t hurt. I wouldn’t hurt you.” He shifted at Stiles’ incredulous expression. “I’ll try to make it hurt as little as possible. I mean… I would try. If we… if we did that. If, uh, if you wanted me to do that. I would try to be as gentle as possible.”
Stiles tapped the talisman, “Its more than a courting gesture. It’s a promise.”
Stiles didn’t understand Derek’s expression. It was a cross between gob smacked and elated. Derek cupped his face gently, no sign of the claws that had been threatening to erupt while they kissed, and he rubbed Stiles’ cheeks gently with the pads of his thumbs.
“Really?”
“This is how I want things to be between us,” Stiles said. “I want you to wear that.”
“I will,” Derek promised again.
“And I want you to bite me. Not now. But… when we’re ready.”
“I will,” Derek agreed. “But we need the moon for a mating bite and it can wait.”
Stiles let his eyes drift closed and nodded in agreement, “It can wait.”
Derek lifted him easily and settled them both on the bed. Stiles opened his eyes just as Derek kissed him again.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered.
“None of that,” Derek whispered back to him. “Neither of us have anything to apologize for. I mean for us to begin as we mean to go on. There shouldn’t be any guilt between us, okay?”
Stiles nodded, “Okay.”
As fervent as their kisses had been before, Stiles was suddenly exhausted. He drifted off the sleep, curled up against Derek’s warmth. He roused himself a little when he felt Derek press a kiss to his forehead.
“Going somewhere?” Stiles murmured.
“No,” Derek replied easily, shifting to pull more of the blanket over them. “I’m not going anywhere.”
THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL. I'm going to write it for NANOWRIMO, which begins next month. I'll probably be posting updates to Keira Marcos Rough Trade, so you can read it there if you like. Otherwise I'll polish it up in early December and post it here.
Spoilers